





FEW TOEMS 



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C COUNTRYMAN 



Good Seme- 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.:....^- Copyright No. 

^: Mra^ 

UNITED STATES t)F AMERICA. 



2nd COPY, 
1898^ 




COPYRIGHT 

CARL C. COUNTRYMAN, 

1898. 

v;; copies RECEIViu' 
t DECS -1838 J 



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vAra\J vVU -^l*?* 



THREE SENSES. 



A FEW POEMS 



BY 



CARL dr COUNTRYMAN. 



Part I— GOOD SENSE. 

Part II— INCENSE. 

Part III-NONSENSE. 



PRESS OF BRINK & MASON, 

393 STATE STREET, 
NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT. 






CONTENTS. ^^ 

' 1^9^ 

Part I-GOOD SENSE. 

I HAIN'T GOT NO HOME, 7 

Sold AN' Gone, 12 

THE WORK OF GOD, • '^ 

Ode THREE, 19 

NEW YEAR'S RESOLVES, 20 

A HYMN, 20 

Part II— INCENSE. 

BABY MINE, 25 

A BURIED LOVE, 27 

AMOROSA CARMINA COLLEGIALIA, 29 

ODE TO ZETECALIAN, 32 

A DREAM, 35 

A Valentine, 37 

Part III— NONSENSE. 

Ethel May, 41 

Ode to Linden, 47 

"IN IT," 48 



ALL OF WHICH IS DEDICATED TOMYJRIENDS— THE PEOPLE. 



I HAIN'T GOT NO HOME. 



I'm trav'lin' up and down 
Through city an' through town, 
I'm wandrin' here an' there 
Like a soul that doesn't care 
Where it's goin' ; 
I'm hired out to travel 
Fer my readin' an' recitin' 
But where I'll be a-goin' 
After readin' all my writin' 
I'm not knowin', 
Fer I 

hain't got 

no home. 

The cyars ar' big an' fine 
On the finest kind o' line, 
The enjin's tough an' strong 
To carry us along 
To where we're pintin'; 
The cars are fixed for sleepin' 
A-runnin' easy, swift an' light, 
Their rollin' an' their rockin' 
Make 'em of all earth's things jest right 
To spend the night in 
To the feller ez 
hain't got 

no home. 

I see along the road 
The farmers on a load 
Of straw er hay er grain, 
An' then I see again 
Children playin'; 



I see the winders lighted, 
Sometimes, when passin' in the night, 
'N'l wonder if the children 
A-kneelin' by the bright home light 
Think of prayin' 
Fur fellers ez 
hain't got 

no home. 

I see the medders green, 

The hosses slick an' clean, 

An' mules an' pigs an' sheep, 

'N'its mighty hard to keep 

From cryin' 

To see the colts a-jumpin' 

An' the winter wheat a-wavin' 

As if it had been thinkin' 

An' its waves fur me ben savin' ; 

It's tryin' 

To a feller ez 

hain't got 

no home. 

'N'l wanter get off there 
An' hop inter a pair 
O' boots an' jump an' run 
An' hev a pile o' fun 
An' foller 

The cows home from the pascher 
An' feed the pigs and sheep an' hosses, 
Applause an' all hands clappin' 
An' even gains ten times the losses 
Ar' holler 
To the feller ez 
hain't got 

no home. 



I wanter go each day 
An' dally 'long the way 
From school, an' fear at home 
Thet there'll be sure to come 
A spankin' ; 

An' chase the turkey gobblers 
An' own an' name the chickins, 
Not in my heart a-thinkin' 
Of feelin' like the dickins 
Nor rankin' 
With fellers ez 
hain't got 

no home. 

I wanter go an' play 

An' mow the hay away 

An' carry grain in sacks 

An' pitch the wheat an' flax 

'N'oats an' clover ; 

An' sit at home of evenin's 

Eatin' corn an' nuts an' tellin' 

Old stories, but all them things— 

Playin', crackin' jokes an' yellin' 

Is all over 

'N'l 

hain't got 

no home. 

The hotels where I eat 
Are neatest kind o' neat 
With gas an' steam an' things, 
An' elevator brings 
You a- sudden 

To any floor you're wan tin' ; 
Waiters too at meals an' plenty 
Of grub in thirteen courses, 



Pies an' cakes an' more than twenty 
Kinds o' puddin' 
To tempt the feller ez 
hain't got 

no home. 

But what's the use o' food 

No matter how so good 

When you don't never feel 

A-hungrin' for a meal 

O' your vittles ; 

I wanter stop this livin', 

Go back home an' hunt the cellar 

Fur pies an' be a-havin' 

Bowls o' soup hot for each feller 

From the kittles ; 

'Twould seem good to the feller ez 

hain't got 

no home. 

An' when I'm old an' gray, 
My life all gone away 
An', sick with many ills. 
Money gone for doctors' bills — 
Me a-dyin' — 

My frends will raise me money 
Fur a place fur me to sleep in ; 
They'll ask "Where's he a-livin'?" 
An' I'll hear some one a-weepin' 
An' replyin' 

He 

hain't got 

no home. 

But when I'm dead an' gone 
An' w hen I wake up on 
A better, brighter shore. 



10 



Where death can be no more, 

I'll be a-seein' 

My mother's robe the whitest 

An' I'll hear her softly sayin' 

In tones the very sweetest, 

I've ben watchin', too, an' prayin' 

Fur you bein' 

My boy thet 

didn't hev 

no home. 

Yes, when my knell is rung 
An' when my dirge is sung 
'N' I'm lyin' in the ground, 
With dead folks all around 
Me a-moldin', 

My frends will raise me money- 
Folks will quickly stop their fightin'— 
An' build a modest tombstone, 
On it they will be a-writin' 
This is holdin' 
A feller thet 

didn't hev 

no home. 

But he was good an' treu 
An' honest all way through, 
We're sure thet he will stand 
Where, in a better land, 
Skies is meller ; 

Fur he was surely worthy them things 
An' so we'll stop our weepin' 
A-trustin' thet our former comrade 
Who's now so sweetly sleepin' 
Is a feller 
Thet hez gone 
to his 

best home. 



11 



50LD AN* GONE. 



Sometimes when a feller, dad, 

Is trav'lin' all aroun' 
An' only stoppin' fur a day 

Or so in any town, 
Without a home where he can go, 
Without home joys fur him to know ; 

With strangers all aroun' him, dad. 

An' tho' they're kind enuff 
They can't be jest what old frends is 

Whose frendship's tried and tuff, 
Who've known fur years him and his kin, 
An' stood by them through thick an' thin. 

Ah ! when a feller's thus ways, dad, 

The queerest feelin' creeps 
Right up his back, sometimes, an' down. 

An' then his old heart leaps 
Up in his throat an' achin' comes 
At seein' others in their homes. 

It seems as if — if he could see 

The old homestead again 
An' wander 'round among the spots 

In which he hasn't ben 
Fur Years, 'twould ease him of his pain 
Ef he could see them sights again. 

Fur there is always places, dad, 

A feller wants to see. 
May be a spring, may be a hill. 

May be an old oak tree, 
May be a place where he has played, 
May be a grave in quiet shade. 



12 



I've wisht to see the old home, dad, 

Fur many a long, long day, 
An' thought of places on an' roun' 

The farm so far away — 
I've wisht to see the sights again 
That I recall to mind so plain. 

I've wisht to walk along the road 

From town, an' think of what 
Adventures fur us little kids 

Had happened at each spot— 
The swimmin' pools, the creek, the bridge, 
The bluffs, the road along the ridge, 

The fishin' places, rocks an' run— 

The wat'rin' place— an' stand 
An' think of what took place there 

When it was on our land, 
An' 'cross the gully in the trees — 
Tall oaks a-swayin' in the breeze — 

You jest kin see the old home, dad, 

An' I have thought so much 
Thet when I got to that place, dad, 

I'd stop an' let old thoughts an' such 
Of childhood's times run through my head, 
Mem'ries all of hours that's sped. 

I've thought of how I'd wander roun' 

An' stop along the way ; 
Why, here I fisht an' here I swum 

An' here I used to play 
An' here I killed an old muskrat, 

Here I did this, here I did that. 



13 



An' here's the cow paths in the woods, 

Known but to Roll an' me, 
An' here's the spring an' here's plum grove 

An' here's the but'nut tree 
An' here's the broad, flat roun' 
That used to be our circus groun'. 

I can't begin to tell you, dad, 

The thoughts that cum to me — 
What nooks an' paths an' dells an' groves 

'Twould gladden me to see — 
A thousand fancies swum before my eyes, 
A thousand mem'ries such as never dies. 

A thousand thoughts run through my head 

Of what I'd do an' say, 
Of where I'd go and when and how 

When I should chance to stay 
Aroun' the old farm that I was brought up on, 
The dear old home of ourn that's sold an' gone. 



I've been to see the old home, dad ; 

When I stepped off the train 
'Twas afternoon an' I was ast to stop 

In town time an' again. 
But though they tried with all their mio;ht, 
I'll see the dear old home to-night. 

An' then I walked along the road 

An' saw the places where 
I spoke of, but they ain't the same 

As when us folks was there ; 
They ain't the same an' yet they be. 
They don't seem quite the same to me. 



14 



The bridge is moved four rods up stream, 

The walnut tree's cut down — 
The biggest, tallest tree it was 

In all the country roun' — 
An' Hamlin's run, where water flowed so cool 
A-gurglin' down the rocks and made a pool 

Eight in the road, is filled up now, 

A shute's put in, an' then 
Right up the gully in plain sight 

You see a slaughter pen 
An' house, an' what was once wild-flower beds 
Is strewed with cattle legs an' horns an' heads ; 

The wat'rin' place ain't used no more. 

An' where we used to pick 
Our hazel nuts is cleared off now, 

An' where they were so thick 
Corn an' pertaters grow, an' here I stand. 
But can't jest make it seem like our land. 

The house an' barn are much the same- 
Some trees are cut away. 

The spring's dried out, the paths grown up. 
But look what side I may 

I can't see much of any change — 

An' yet it's strange — it's all so strange. 

The barn is there, though painted brown, 

The house has got a stoop 
Aroun' the south side now. I can't 

Tell why my spirits droop, 
An' yet they do ; I'm not to blame — 
The same— the same — yet not the same. 



15 



I climb the hill an' wander off 

The way we went to school, 
An' grit my teeth an' stop my tears — 

Don't say, dad, I'm a fool — 
It ain't the old home I've ben on ; 
The old home's sold— yes, sold an' gone. 

Yes, sold an' gone, an' dead an' gone, 

An' all I've left is thoughts 
An' names an' mem'ries dear an' sweet 

About all previous spots. 
It ain't the old home I've ben on, 
The old home's sold — yes, sold an' gone. 



16 



THE WORK OF GOD. 



Ah, how illustrious is he 
Who, in the face of destiny, 

Pursues an upright course ; 
Who boldly throttles fate's decree, 
And makes an opportunity 

What others make a curse. 

Who sorely is with choler pent — 
Mayhap with baser passions rent — 

And fiery, untamed mood ; 
Yet curbs his fury till 'tis spent, 
And turns his soul's unworthy bent 

To work his noblest good. 

Or who, though poor and lowly born. 
Exposed to cursed, unrighteous scorn 

Of all the world beside, 
In no wise deems himself forlorn, 
But bravely makes his feelings, torn, 

Expel unholy, godless pride. 

Or he, who sprung from those untaught— 
Almost without the gift of thought — 

Becomes a learned man ; 
And, when the noble fight is fought. 
Enjoys the boon that toil hath bought 

In earth's most cultured clan. 

Or he who, born to vice and crime, 
In lowest depths of moral slime. 

And like the earthy clod, 
Relieves himself of grievous grime. 
And learns, in acts and thoughts sublime, 

To honor Christ and God. 



17 



He who has all this duty done 
Makes, with his course so nobly run. 

The world to understand 
With self-control— a virtue won— 
Of all the creatures 'neath His sun 

God's greatest work is man. 



18 



ODE THREE. 



Were I to choose, dear Berta, a husband for you, 
I'd seek a man brave, tender, devoted and true. 
'Twould not be 'mid proud fashion's bold pomp and vain 

blare. 
Nor yet 'mid wealth's gay, showy enticements and glare; 
Nay, nay. I would not seek for position or pride 
Or wealth or power or title for you as a bride. 
For what are all these for a soul to live on? 
A flame— nay, flash— nay, twinkle— and then they are 

gone. 
What are all these and travel and palace and dome 
Beside the sweet, calm joy of a dear little home ? 
Nay, not a Croesus, nobleman, nor other than 
An earnest, honest, loving— yes. God-fearing man. 
To bring you peace, contentment, and happiness, too, 
I'd seek if I were choosing a husband for you. 



19 



NEW YEAR'S RESOLVES. 



The old year now ends, 
The new one begins ; 

Man vows swift amends 
For last year's sad sins. 

But the years pass by 
With no seemly token, 

And vows e'er so high 
Are made to be broken. 



A HYMN. 



Oh, heavenly source of light and love— 

Thou spirit most divine- 
Pervade my spirit from above, 

And make thine essence mine. 

Oh, do I leave stern virtue's path, 
Or faith or wisdom lack ? 

Ne'er give thou way to grievous wrath- 
Do thou, Love, bring me back. 

And do I fall or ^o astray, 

I may not ask, "Relent" ; 
Thou, Justice, wilt assume thy sway 

Until I may repent. 

Thus, God of earth and heaven, reign 

In justice as in love. 
And banish from the world all pain, 

All sin and shame remove. 



20 



Part II-INCENSE. 



BABY niNE. 



Bit of sunshine, 

Sky-blue-eyed, 
Sent from heaven 

To my side, 
With us mortals 

To abide— 
Mamma's darling, 

Papa's pride- 
Baby mine. 

Fairest beauty 

Ever spied, 
Far surpassing 

All beside ; 
Take papa's knee 

For a ride ; 
Here and there and 

Yon we glide — 
Baby mine. 



Bit of sweetness, 

Golden hair ; 
Baby-like face. 

Ah ! so fair ; 
No otlier one 

Anywhere, 
Howe'er sweet. 

Can compare- 
Baby mine. 



25 



Dimpled darling— 

Oh, how rare — 
Catching people 

Like a snare ; 
Tiny object 

Of our care, 
And none the less 

Of our prayer- 
Baby mine. 

How we love thee 

None can tell ; 
None can feel but 

Hearts that swell 
Like unto ours, 

And as well 
In whose own homes 

Babies dwell— 
Baby mine. 

Could we lose thee ? 

Nay, not so ! 
Shouldst thou leave us 

We must go ; 
To maturity 

Wilt thou grow, 
Bearing that love 

None can know- 
Baby mine. 



26 



A BURIED LOVE. 



You've told me, love, "Good-bye," 
You have not told me why ; 

I cannot leave you yet ; 
But yesterday I hoped to-day 

Our vv edding day to set. 

Butj yesterday your smile of love 
Raised me to heaven above 

From out the sordid haunts of men ; 
Do not to-day send me away ; 

Nay, love, but smile again. 

Those eyes, so deep and blue, 
Have read my love for you 

No words of mine could tell ; 
Oh, can it be that ne'er on me 

Those eyes in love shall dwell ? 

Those arms, so soft and white, 
Have clasped this neck, love, tight ; 

Those lips 'gainst mine have oft been pressed. 
This heart so true that beats for you 

Has felt yours answer at my breast. 

Will ne'er those arms by me be felt ? 
Will ne'er those lips to kisses melt? 

Your heart an answer give 
To my heart beat ? My love ! my sweet ! 

Bid my fond hopes to live. 

Nay? Then my hopes are vain, 
My life is doomed to pain ; 

Farewell ! if we must part. 
The love so rare for you I bear, 

I'll bury in my heart. 



27 



No stone shall mark its resting place, 
No time its scar can e'er efface ; 

But in its heart-tomb where 
No mortal eye aught can descry, 

My buried love is there. 



28 



AnOROSA CARfllNA COLLEQIALIA. 

(COLLEGE LOVE SONGS.) 



THE PREP, 

Lessons are hard, 

Dances are few, 
Honey is sweet, 

So, too, are you. 

THE FRESHHAN. 

Now let me dream, do let me dream. 

Of days so short ago 
When you went out to parties there. 

And I went, too — your beau ! 

But now I'm here ; I've got a girl ; 

Yet often long for home. 
And when we have vacation, dear. 

To your sweet arms I'll come. 

THE SOPHOnORE. 

There's the sweetest girl in our town 

That I have ever seen. 
Her eyes are like two diamonds. 

Her face fair to be seen. 

I long to see her often, now. 
And in the night I dream 

Of how I've always gazed upon 
That brow of purest cream. 

And when I'm through at college. 
And clasp her form once more, 

I'll taste those sweetest roses 
In the "kiss behind the door." 



29 



1 til .IIMOJ^. 

Now whon Tin otT at oi>Uoj;t> 

I iuw ihu\kit\ij v>fi of ih^> : 
Sh.v. whon you hi^ »t (ho di^b j>An 

l>o yovi ovor think of me ? 

1 »n\ louoly. JuUii, darlings 
Knowinjj i\ot what I may do; 

You. and you alotio. rx^Uovo tuo. 
Wriio and say you'rx* louoly, tvxv 

Uow rho n\vH>n* «rt^ ?i^lo\v in changing. 
How tho da>'$ liko a^^ tly : 

l^ut \vv»>ti\l can think Ivforehand 
lUl cv>mo home by and hy. 

Uy and hy we'll walk t\>gtHher. 

A;* we \e done j'o oft In^forr^ : 
l^y and by you, little swtvt heart, 

^hall l>e minefv^nnor monv 

l^Y no \,«4in d^wi^ion 

i>f memal vvt>?ev>iion, 
Whioh, by the way, is known, 

I havx^ rv^^ehed the e\>neeption 

Of n\y jv\vful rx\*eptiv>n 
When to your arms Tve tU^wn. 

This joyU^ss exteitsion 
Grow^ inso ^usv^msion 
M.^Xirv5: one v>ften grvxan ; 
This fruitless 0\>ntention 



l»f inner *ttx>ntK>n 

T^IU •.r.o yv^;^^t^ sad .-^nd Ivxne, 




x^^ 




IMI 









In thiw, your coriflition 

Of awful ix'.rditiori, 
Won't you corn<t to rny hntiy/f 

WJtf) HuhtUi transition 

'io joyful fruition, 
W<;'ll liv<j without alarrnH. 

When U'Jidc.r ovation 

Bringu rjr>m«dy flirtation, 
Forth CupifJ 't*.f-ji<\H hin fJartn ; 

A bliHHful H<'.nHatior) 

Of our cloM'i r"Jatiori 
(]rf/;\>A o'<;r rny h<iart of h<;art». 

i'y fri<;nfJ]y at.tra';tion 

Of \(}Wiin/^ rf'/A';l\f)U 
You hav<', a warm pla/;'; Uthnt ; 

A \f)n'/(',r protraf^ition 

In \>nri'^]r>y^ (li i-X r'Af til tm 
Will fJrivf: ri-j«: t,o d^Hpair, 

J« thJH th' /fj 

<'>f your '-, / 
Nothin;/ y^ - 

JuHt rnak': 

To take rny protection, 
You »e*?, J Jove you, dear. 



:tJon ? 

*<;ar ; 
■j'orj 



3J 



ODE TO ZETECALIAN. 



A merry rhyme 

In shortest time 
I write — not for offence — 

So do not chime, 

With lips sublime, 
"Oh, come from off the fence." 

Could I beguile 

You for a while, 
My heart would swell and break 

Which, should you smile 

In bonny style, 
A higher leap would take. 

But should you frown 

And throw this down ; 
Should any such betide. 

With no fair crown 

My head around, 
I'm sure I'd suicide. 

Had I the power 

For one short hour 
To sing a new, sweet tune. 

My head would tower 

Where starlights flower 
And strike against the moon. 

But, woe is me ! 

The fates decree 
That I should meditate ; 

And thus you see, 

So void of glee, 
I scratch my empty pate. 



32 



There is a gem 

For diadem 
More priceless far than purest gold- 

A rare white gem — 

The fit emblem 
Of purity from days of old. 

This diamond bright, 

Though such a sight, 
Though crowning jet-black hair. 

Oh, never might, 

When in your sight, 
Seem even passing fair. 

The roses sweet 

Our vision greet. 
Their petals full unfurled ; 

With color meet, 

With smell replete, 
They ravish all the world. 

But, oh, the fame 

They ne'er can claim — 
This tribute is but due — 

From them as same, 

And very tame, 
All eyes are turned on you. 

Oh, could my pen, 

I wail again, 
A worthy tribute bring, 

The sons of men 

Would ne'er again 
Dare to attempt to sing. 



33 



My fame would spread, 

Ere I was dead, 
To Jupiter and Mars ; 

And when I'd fled 

To earthy bed 
'Twould reach the farthest stars. 

Though giving pain, 

The fact is plain 
That that is not my place ; 

I'll never gain 

That honored plane, 
And so I'll " close my face." 



84 



._J 



A DREAM. 



Had I the power of Jupiter 
I'd let no finite hand deter 

Me from service proud or mean 
To her so fair— past all compare — 

Whom I fain would make my queen. 

I'd bid my vassals linger nigh 

By day and night with jealous eye 

And waive all care aside, 
That no alarm or earthly harm 

Should e'er my love betide ; 

And genii, gods, goddesses and all, 
Should ever wait upon her beck and call. 

Ten thousand thousand fairy hands and feet 
Should spend their might by day and night 

To make her every moment calm and sweet. 

Her slightest want should be supplied, 
No wish of hers should be denied 

That could one joy for her complete ; 
From first to last I'd freely cast 

The universe down at her feet. 

But yet, alas ! 'twas not my fate 
To be assigned so high a state, 

For I am but a man ; nor can 
I offer more of worldly store 

Than almost any other man. 

I cannot offer gold nor lands. 

Nor slaves to wait for her commands. 

But what I can impart — 
More priceless far than world or star — 

Is my own manly heart. 



35 



A philanthropic mind, a heart — a soul — above 

All habits low of speech or deed— a boundless love— 

A heart— a soul— a life to her most true — 
These things I have to give, my vow for her to live— 

My life—'i^iy all — and this I hereby do. 



A VALENTINE, 



Oh, maiden fair, in whose sweet sight 
All other things are commonplace. 

And dainty nymphs e'en take their flight 
With one glance at thy matchless face ; 

Earth's grandest, greatest joy to me would be 
To steal from thy pure lips a kiss. 

While sipping nectar such as this, to me 
Would be eternal, boundless bliss. 



37 



ETHEL MAY. 



'Tain't every feller that you see 

Has got as pert a sis as me, 

Fer Sue's as smart as she can be. 

She's ben to college quite a spell, 

An' shows up there 'mongst 'em right well. 

Fer readin' Lating, Greek an' such, 

An' talkin' Spanish, French an' Dutch, 

She simply can't be beat, I'll swear; 

An' as fer that pianner there. 

You'd think, to hear the old thing tear 

'Twould get right up an' rip an' rare, 

An' she a-sittin' calmly there 

As if she didn't never care 

What her fingers did, nor where they went, 

An' they a-goin' lickety blinkin' bent 

Till the old pianner everythin' but splits 

An' she gives a couple partin' bangs an' quits. 

Oh, she's the sweetest girl in town, . 

Or in the country all aroun'; 

An' when we go to church, well, well. 

If I don't cut the biggest swell ; 

I never look at country people, 

Bnt keep a-gazin' at the steeple — 

'N'at Sal Jones, the gal I used ter spark 

An' hug an' kiss of evenin's arter dark 

Till Tom White cut me out— I stick 

My nose up mighty high an' quick 

When she looks 'round, an' gaze at space 

As if I'd never seed her face ; 

An' while the preacher talks about our sins 

All I think of is, " Sue an me's twins." 



41 



0' course Sue's got a chum away 

At school ; her name is Ethel May ; 

She's comin' out to visit here— 

'Cuz Sue went home with her last year— 

An' stay at least three weeks ; 

An' now she up an' speaks 

An' says she'll come this afternoon— 

I didn't 'spect her quite so soon. 

I'll skin to Miller's in a hurry 

An' borry their spick span new surrey, 

An' bring our racin' colts aroun', 

An' show Miss Ethel— an' the town— 

That when I'm slicked up in my best 

I hold my head up with the rest. 

I'll talk off to her kind o' bluff 

An' make her think I'm just the stuff. 

Sue says she's she's awful smart, 

But course she'd take her part. 

I'll notice her enough to show 

Fer love of Sue, I'll gladly go 

Her friends and schoolmates, too ; 

But, course, they're not " in it" with Sue. 

In every place, by day or night, 

Sue an' me's jest " out of sight." 



It's gettin' 'long the time o' day 

Fer me to go an' meet Miss May. 

I guess I'll ride awhile about 

An' when the train's a-pullin' out 

I'll drive along up to the landin', 

Close by the spot where she'll be standin' 

An' give the rig a little turn 

As if I didn't give a durn 

Fer what she said er done, an' say, 

"I s'pose that this is Ethel May ; 



42 



I can't get out there, I'll be beat, 

But jump right in the hinder seat. 

These colts is feelin' good ter-day, 

An' when they get a little gay 

It's all a feller wants ter do 

To tend ter them. My sister Sue 

Didn't hev no time to come to town, 

An' so I thought I'd drive aroun';" 

An then I'll give her lots of guff, 

An' fill her up with piles of stuff 

About the town an' everythin' 

We see along until we bring 

Up home. I'll fool her, I'll allow. 

Gosh ! there's her train a-comin* now. 

Whoa, Bill ! whoa, Bess ! Steady there ! 

Don't you go to rip an' rare ! 

I wonder if that's her a-talkin' 

With the agent ? Now she's walkin' 

Right down this way. What was it I 

Was goin' to say to her ? My ! my ! 

I can't think o' nuthin'. " Yep, I'm Jim. 

Sue's to home." I never felt so slim! 

An.' there, she's dim right in with me ; 

Should think she'd have nuff sense to see 

The hinder seat is just her place. 

But, now, I'll look once at her face — 

Red hair ; golly ! reddish, sandy skin — 

Pretty, is she ? That's too gol durned thin ! 

There, she saw me lookin' ! Get up, there, 

Bill an' Bess ! Gee whiz ! Get up ! I swear ! 

Can't you move along? I wonder 

What time it is ? Two-ten ? Thunder! 

What is it makes my head itch so ? 

I never saw this team so slow. 

What time did I say it was ? Oh, yes, 

Can't remember anything, I guess. 



43 



Well, here we are home. Ain't I glad ! 

An', still, it makes me awful mad 

That she's ben talkin' all the way 

'N'l couldn't think of "nit" to say. 

Well, what's the " diff ? " Here goes to do 

The chores, an' pickin' cherries, too. 

***** 
Three weeks gone by — it doesn't seem 
Three days. I didn't never dream 
How fast time flew, nor that I'd give a cent 
How long she stayed with us or when she went. 
But now she's really gone. Well, I'll be beat ! 
She isn't pretty, but she's awful sweet. 
An', pop, he says — the slickest thing of all — 
As I can go to college in the fall. 

***** 
Three short years have passed away — 
Doesn't seem more than a day — 
Since I entered college, and yet, really, now, 
I'm a Senior. It is grateful, I'll allow. 
And passing pleasant just to know 
How changed I am from that ago. 
Sue says Miss May is coming soon — 
Now, really, 'tis this afternoon. 
I'll get a rig and man, and dress 
To kill, and slightly make her guess 
That I'm a dude. I'll curl my beard 
And get my monocle all geared 
To eighty-eight ; sling on more dog than 
All others with coachman, footman 
And everything beside to take 
Her 'round, and home, and make 
Her feel surprised. Right now it's time 
To go prepare for eyes sublime. 



44 



I 



"Awnd this is shuah Miss May ? Aw, me ! 
Baw Jowve ! Ahm awful glad to see 
Yuh ! Jawn, help the lady in. 
Gad ! thwee twooly yeahs it's been 
Since you wuh heah, and you aw not 
Changed by a single, tiny dot. 
Sue'U be awful glad to know 

That you've come, awnd you cawnot go 

Befaw a month. Now, Jawn, don't dwive 

So vewy fast, me mon alive." 

Now, I'm running a great bluff ; 

She^don't like that kind of stuff; 

But, seeing that I have begun, 

I'm bound to have a mint of fun. 

Home so soon ? How time does glide 

When you're sitting side by side 

With her in whom you take most pride ; 

How short does seem each carriage ride. 

And I've been talking all the way homeward, 

While she's been silent, thinking very hard. 

I've met a few girls in my day, 

But never other half so gay. 



Two weeks have gone, but all too fast. 

Another visit almost past. 

" Gowing home to-mowwow? Now, Miss May, 

Awyou weally shuah you cawnot stay 

The month out ? Well, if we must pawt, 

I want to say befaw you stawt 

That I'm no fool, and hence no dude. 

Although for fun, you see, I've stood 

The role two weeks ; so here goes my 

Monocle from out my eye. 

This stiff sky-scraper off my throat— 

I can't say I did ever dote 



45 



On them. But now I want to say, 

Just for your ears, sweet Ethel May, 

In my big, loving eyes you're worth 

The most of any girl on earth ; 

So say the word, and I will come. 

When through at school to bring you home. 

'Tis said ! One kiss ! Yes — two ! three ! four ! 

And yet, so sweet, a dozen more ! 

There, there, you smile — the deed is done — 

In one short year we two'll be one. 



46 



ODE TO LINDEN. 



Through Linden, when the sun was low, 
I passed, a year and more ago ; 
And there — oh, heart ; why flutter so ? 
I met a charming maiden. 

Summer went and autumn came ; 

At A , in teacher's meeting tame, 

Once more, with joy, I met the same 
Bewitching, laughing maiden. 

Another summer came our way, 
When once upon a sorry day, 
I met a man whose homestead lay 
In Linden near that maiden. 

I said I knew a maiden there — 
A maiden sweet — a maiden rare, 
That day, I learned to my despair, 
A man would wed that maiden. 

Oh, fatal day whene'er we met ! 
O, day how much more fatal yet 
That made her someone else's pet, 
That self same naughty maiden. 

O, Linden, girt with many hills ! 
O, Linden, free from business ills! 
O, Linden, full of tucks and frills ! 
The home of charming maidens. 

But Linden, sorrow not for me, 
For my bold happy heart you see 
Is from snares and meshes free, 
Of all designing maidens. 

Yes, gone are all those aching pains. 
And now I search where Cupid reigns. 
And seek for Beauty, Wealth and Brains, 
In one adored, sweet maiden. 



47 



*' IN IT. 



The rich man stood in his parlor door— 
A thing he'd often done before— 
And spurned the agents of the poor. 
He wasn't "in it," 

They asked him to give of his great wealth 
To those who had neither gold nor health. 
"They'd a-had it if they'd sense to win it." 
And he wasn't "in it." 

Past the hospital door on a cold winter's day 
Went a hearse in which a rich coffin lay, 
Whose draping had taken wrecks to spin it. 

He was "in it." 
A soul had knocked at heaven's gate ; 
St. Peter sternly said to wait 
While he looked in his record book— it took 
but a minute, 
For he w^as "in it." 

Quoth St. Peter, "You've made a great sell, 
For you've bought a ticket straight to— well, 
Your elevator goes down in a minute. 
He was "in it." 



48 



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